


you got troubles, I've got 'em too

by doofusface



Category: Avengers: Infinity War - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Infinity War, Slice of Life, Temporary Character Death, but currently canon compliant so TAKE CARE IN HERE FOLKS, watch this get wiped by part 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 14:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14451702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doofusface/pseuds/doofusface
Summary: [SPOILERS FOR AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR]Ned's been staring at MJ.Just.Staring.And she doesn't even stop him.





	you got troubles, I've got 'em too

**Author's Note:**

> tw temp char death and descriptions of it
> 
> LAST CALL, SPOILERS FOR IW BELOW, but only if referencing avengers members
> 
> title from you've got a friend in me because im the Worst
> 
> EDIT: there's a prequel comic to this fic now! read first tho cuz wowza spoilers for plot (the link will be in the end notes)

Ned stares at MJ during lunch.

A lot.

Every day.

Since school started back up.

Peter notices when he’s _back_ -back—on Earth, feet planted and body solid.

Built like a rock.

A squishy, wall-climbing rock.

(Tony’s first order of business—or second, if you count enrolling him in every therapy group he can think of—is to connect Karen to his Iron Spider suit, in case of emergency.

Hopefully, “emergency” will never mean “big alien of questionable color and moral code” again, but who knows, really?)

Peter doesn’t say anything about it, because it’s not like Ned’s crush stare—not earnest, not with his chin in his hands, or mouth open and gawking.

It’s just.

A stare.

A blank one, like MJ’s usual.

Peter also doesn’t say anything because MJ doesn’t, which is weird.

Or not.

Stuff’s happened.

Life is weird.

He’s still getting used to breathing again, without the slow-decay part. It’s nice, he reminds himself daily.

It’s very nice to be breathing without watching yourself—literally—fly away, in little bits and pieces.

Into nothing.

* * *

One day, MJ comes over.

She’d been declining for over a month, but he’d been pretty lazy about asking, if he’s being honest.

Like, he missed his friends, okay? A _lot_.

But he needs to be alone sometimes.

But, also, he _super_ needs to be around people other times.

Preferably a lot of people.

Maybe even like, a gymful of people.

So.

MJ comes over, finally, and it’s right around when Peter starts thinking that breathing’s kinda essential.

(Not the literal kind—the mental one, where you just. Savor existing.)

And Ned’s there.

Staring.

The usual, at this point.

But today, see, May’s home.

And May’s staring, too.

A little on the sadder side, and more to _both_ Ned and MJ, but still.

Staring.

Peter’s too tired to ask, because he has a superhero limit of _Not A Lot_ currently, and he’d just saved someone from a bunch of muggers on the way home (unbelievable, those guys, right after what just happened?), and too scared because he’s in his _I need a hundred more people here, stat_ phase, and he just kinda wants to sit on the couch and listen for the sounds of _life_ in the apartment building.

(Superhearing is a blessing and a curse, but at least he’s sensing things in a more controlled way now.)

But yeah.

May stares at them.

And Peter’s confused.

No one else at school really does it.

Like, he’d caught Sally doing it once. And Flash, a couple times.

But.

Those were when school was a week in.

Understandable.

 _Quick_.

Everyone was staring at everyone else for a good while, honestly.

Some people wondered if Peter went missing on the bus because of the...y’know.

Which, funny. ‘Cause.

 _Y’know_.

But anyway.

Peter’s confused.

So he does the only logical thing he can think of.

He hugs MJ.

Now? Now’s the weirdest part.

She hugs him back.

No, that's not weird.

But she hugs him _tightly_ , like he might fly away, which  _is_.

It somehow feels like a sucker punch, possibly for both of them. (Her heartbeat is quick and he doesn’t register just _how much_ until he’s two minutes to falling asleep at 4AM.)

The TV’s got _Footloose_ on as default—which is _rude_ , how dare it do that—because no one switched the channel.

Peter wants to be hugging MJ (check), and breaking the TV (not check, will not _be_ checked).

Ned joins in eventually, taking a break from his staring. He's quietly humming along because that’s a habit he’ll never get rid of, even if Weird Stuff happens.

May hops in, too, and Peter decides _Footloose_ is a mess, but at least it got MJ to say, “Can someone _please_ change the channel?” which is the most emotion she’s shown since his return.

(May changes it to an old _Tom and Jerry_ cartoon, and they all eventually split from a single entity to watch.

They even laugh a few times.

...Except for MJ.)

* * *

By month two, Peter’s sold on the prospect of telling her he’s Spider-Man.

Life’s too short.

She probably already knows, but life’s _too short_.

Ned’s making more jokes. He still stares when the conversation drops, but at least he’s trying to get her and Peter to laugh instead of just sitting there.

Watching.

Peter’s a little more even now. A little more calm. He starts diving in on the jokes, and his and Ned’s tandem finally yields fruit.

MJ laughs.

A real laugh.

Properly done.

With teeth, and a smile reaching her eyes.

“Man, that was _bad,_ losers,” she says, and Peter realizes:

She has not called them that in almost three months.

He’s missed it.

And, by the look of surprise on Ned’s face, _he’s_ missed it, too.

“You back?” Ned asks gently, a smile barely showing.

MJ stops laughing.

Ned frowns, winces, and shakes his head with his eyes closed. “That’s not—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha—”

“It’s fine,” MJ deadpans, picking at her closed book and refusing eye contact.

(It’s not fine. Her heartbeat shot up.

She’s _not_ fine.)

Peter frowns. “That—”

He drops his head before he starts; MJ is giving him a large scowl, as if daring him to say otherwise.

Life’s too short.

So.

He does otherwise.

“That’s a lie.”

“What’s it to _you_ , Peter?” she seethes, but not in a _I’m gonna strangle you with my bare hands_ kinda way.

It’s defensive.

Like, caged animal defensive.

Perhaps even an  _I’m going to pretend nothing happened and I’m doing a bad job but leave me alone anyway_ kinda defensive.

And, again, life’s too short.

So he grabs Ned from beside him, walks around the table, and grabs MJ’s wide-eyed, terror-frozen form—both by the elbow, because May taught him boundaries, aight?—and walks them down to the nearest empty classroom, lunch forgotten.

“I’m Spider-Man,” is the first thing he says, after locking the door.

“I’m aware,” is the first thing she says, when he turns around.

“ _MJ_ ,” is the first thing Ned says, and Peter’s _there_ enough to register that it sounds like a warning.

Like he’s missing something.

“ _What_ , Ned?” MJ throws, curling into herself as she crosses her arms. It’s weaker than her usual.

Ned turns to Peter, and it’s that blank stare again. Empty, almost. Kinda like Thor’s eyes, when they’d met.

Haunted.

Ned clears his throat, looking back at her. “He went up.”

“No, really?” MJ says, tilting her head. Sarcasm is her weapon of choice today, not blunt honesty in matter-of-fact statements.

(Her pulse is going crazy.)

She’s trying to stop herself from tapping by clenching her arms tighter, and Peter reaches out, ‘cause he wants her to _not_ hurt herself.

He finds that she lets him reach her, much like every other time he and Ned had _actually tried_ , and remembers she’s just.

Scared, usually.

Too scared to ask.

He looks up, hands gently uncurling her fingers and sneaking his hands under hers. “You can squeeze my hands.”

“I—” she starts. Falters. Something weird goes on in her pulse for a second (and his, if he's being honest), and it only levels when Ned puts his hands on her shoulders. “—okay.”

“I don’t know what happened here,” Peter whispers, because he’s scared, too.

He kinda knows, he thinks, but that only freaks him out more.

(He should’ve grabbed a steel bar to squeeze for himself. Now all he has are his hands in MJ’s and he can’t go all-out squeezing _those_ , now can he?

Would be a waste, and a tragedy. She draws so well.

Has so much more to offer.)

“We’re gonna be late,” she says, after a minute or two of trying to break his hands with her grip.

She’s far off.

Peter thinks the attempt is commendable, if not cute.

“You’re not fine.”

“Yes, I am.”

“MJ,” Ned whispers from her side, The Stare™️ back in his eyes. “You’re _not_.”

She looks at Ned, and Peter _knows_ that look. The knitted brows, the vaguely wrinkled nose.

The frown, twitching into place.

The eyes—hers will stay with him for a _while_ —the eyes of someone who probably wondered _Where’s the guy assigned to save my ass?_ at one point, but is currently thinking _Let me_ run. _Please._

“You gotta tell him eventually,” Ned coaxes, and Peter sees a sliver of emotion enter The Stare, which is nice.

A lil’ improvement from the hollow.

A lil’ more of Ned coming back from the war.

“No, I don’t,” MJ rasps, frowning to keep back from...crying?

Is she about to cry?

Her hands are twitching, at the very least.

But her lips are doing the shake-thing, and her eyes are glistening in a _Bad Way_ , so…

“You can cry,” Peter hears himself say. “Crying helps.”

And, it does.

It does, seriously.

But when MJ turns her head, the second before the bell rings, he _sees_ the fear he’d _felt_ on Titan.

(Huh.

Explains why Tony kept checking on him.

Obsessively.

He wants to do that now, too.)

MJ’s eyes say _Leave me alone, you don’t want to see this_ and _Don’t let go_ at the same time, because she’s still fighting it.

That was him when he got back three months ago, but she’s _MJ_ and she’s too in her head being stubborn most of the day to _not_ fight it.

“MJ, please,” Ned tries again, lowering his voice. “For me?”

Ned and MJ are close.

Peter knows this.

He hopes it works.

(It works.)

They’re all late to Geometry, but their teacher doesn’t chastise them because it looks obvious. Cindy’s in that class with them, and last week she didn’t show up until two minutes to the end-of-class bell, eyes red and breathing hitched.

Nobody asked questions.

A few people gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder as she passed them.

They do the same for the trio.

* * *

“Peter,” MJ calls from his bed, Ned asleep on her lap.

He turns, watching her lean back on the wall. She won’t look at him, but he knows she's had trouble reading lately because she’s still only halfway through a book she started two months ago, and it isn’t even a thick one.

“Yeah?”

(They have homework. Not a lot, not like before. But they do.

It’s mundane and Peter’s missed it.)

“I can’t look in the mirror,” she breathes, resting the book by Ned’s side. “It scares me.”

Oh.

It’s something he figured out, but hearing her voice it is still an experience.

And it sucks.

“Ned stares at you,” he says simply.

“I let him,” she replies, looking down at the boy in question with pure _fondness_. “He tried.”

Peter furrows his brows. He hasn’t heard this story. “To?”

“To save me,” she rasps, leaning her head back and closing her eyes at the bunk bed above. “He tried to catch me. In the wind.”

Peter knows he doesn’t deserve Ned Leeds.

MJ's told him. Repeatedly.

And he just  _knows_.

Right now, though, he wonders if she’s realizing the same as him that they _really_ don’t deserve Ned Leeds, in this dimension or the next.

“I will _kill_ for him,” she says, hollow. “I’ll do a bad job at it, but I _will_ kill for Ned.”

Peter goes with it. “He wouldn’t want you to.”

“That’s why.”

“Breathe.”

“I am, that’s the problem.”

Ow.

That hurt.

“MJ,” Peter whispers, carefully moving closer.

“Your turn,” she whispers back, eyes still closed.

Trying to keep everything even.

Level.

Balanced.

(He hates that word, now, if only until someone changes his perception of it.

Maybe MJ or Ned can.)

Peter pauses at the foot of the bed.

He remembers how it felt.

Like fire, except muted, which...doesn’t make much sense.

Spreading like disease. Quickly and quicker and _bam_ , half his legs are gone.

Stomach? Gone.

Brain, thinking of May and his friends?

Of his parents?

Of Tony?

Of _Ben_?

Gone.

“There’s a planet called Titan, where Thanos grew up.”

MJ nods.

“There were these guys that helped us. Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“On the nose.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you tell them to change their name? After?”

He shakes his head, then remembers she can’t see. “No.”

“You’re too nice, Peter.”

“They all kinda...flew away, too.”

She swallows, frowning apologetically. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Is it, though?”

“We all came back together.”

“Ah. So. You…”

“Same boat,” he says, and is surprised to see her eyes snap open, head tilting back down to watch him.

Catch his gaze.

Hold him in place.

“You don’t need to say it,” she says thickly.

He frowns. “ _You_ did.”

“Peter, I haven’t said it aloud to anyone. Ever. Until today. To _you_.”

He should be honored.

Mostly, he wants to give her another hug.

That can’t be easy to not scream about to someone else.

Peter should know. He lasted about a week before telling May.

Her hand twitches.

“You’ve written it,” he says more than asks. “And Ned saw.”

“So did Flash. And Sally.”

“Is that why Flash chilled out?”

“Yeah. And May knows, because I was doodling once and she saw it,” MJ explains, trying to stare down his resolve.

“Did it feel like fire?” he blurts out. “I hope it didn’t. I hope you felt something nicer.”

“It felt like a really bad lunch,” she deadpans.

He nods.

“But.”

_Dang._

“Also like fire.”

_So close._

And, because filters are for people with something to lose: “I’m really happy you’re back.”

“I’m…” she squints, “...same. About you.”

“ _I’m_ really happy you told him,” Ned murmurs, and MJ turns _red_.

“Screw you, Leeds.”

“You’d kill for me.”

“With limited success.”

“I don’t want you to,” Ned says, rolling over on his back to see her face and Peter’s. “ _Either_ of you. _Ever_.” Pause. “And if I change my mind, kill me.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” MJ chuckles.

It’s not weak.

That’s a good development.

* * *

AcaDec is less MJ stumbling and rereading a card about the physical properties of ash, and more of her voice carrying and _holding_.

Flash nods at her once before a trip to a meet, and they have this weird, silent understanding.

(He still hasn’t made fun of Peter.

Or Ned.

He doesn’t seem to want to.

Peter prefers it this way.)

Sally says hi to MJ more often than not, too, but they’d always been on speaking terms anyway.

MJ comes up to Peter after school and tells him Sally’d apologized _for not doing anything, which is stupid, you don’t have the power to do anything when an intergalactic warlord decides to kill off half the population with a bunch of magic stones and a snap of his fingers._

To which he replies: “I hope you said that a little nicer.”

“I used a nicer arrangement, but I still used ‘stupid’,” she says, lips forming a tight line.

Still no humor in her eyes.

Peter wonders if her snark will be back soon, along with his will to care about not getting punched in the face.

(May would appreciate that. Maybe he should skip patrol tonight, not let himself get anywhere near a shot at getting into a brawl.

 _Sounds good_ , he thinks to himself.

 _Good talk_ , he replies to the same.)

Ned walks up. “She did. To both those things.”

“See?" MJ says, stoically. "Proof.”

Peter wants to ask if she _wants to come over later_ , but early on in his train of thought changes it to asking if she _wants to go somewhere outside_.

But his brain is fried because insomnia, so it comes out as:

“Wanna go out?”

Peter now wants to ask if Ned can, _please_ , make him go unconscious, but he clamps his mouth shut and blushes instead, because that’s easier and conveys the same message.

(Ned gingerly pats his shoulder.

At least _he's_ finding it amusing.)

There's no wind today, but there's at least one guy beeping angrily at someone to hit the gas, 'cause the light's green.

It's still quiet, though.

“Ask again when I’m not emotionally detached from reality,” MJ deadpans, after two minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Ned stares at her, and this time there’s a real joke in his eyes. “Dang, MJ.”

She shrugs, hauling her backpack up. “Life’s too short.”

“A ‘no’ would’ve easier.”

“A ‘no’ would’ve been a lie.”

Ned whistles.

MJ nudges him. “C’mon, May’s waiting for us.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asks softly, walking in step with them. “About the going out thing, not May.”

 _May’s always waiting for us to come back_.

MJ doesn’t answer.

With words, anyway.

She grabs his hand and squeezes like the first time, trying to pass on everything she’s felt, before and after the spaceship decided to dock in Manhattan.

Everything.

Pain, hope.

Fear.

Wholeness.

Love, platonic or otherwise.

Forgiveness.

Ned wipes away the tears that escape her eyes, then the ones from his own.

“Hey, buddy,” he says. _Coos_. “We’re here.”

She nods. “I know.”

“I’ll hold your arm now, okay?”

“Yup.”

So they walk arm-in-arm and hand-in-hand all the way to the Parker apartment, and when May opens the door she corrals them into a hug by the doorway.

She whispers, “You’re gonna be okay,” to them, but mostly to MJ.

Then again at dinner.

And again, when _The_ _Thin Man_ starts.

And again, as always, when she drops her off at home that night and every night, before Peter gets out and walks her to the door.

* * *

“You don’t have to keep walking me,” MJ says, two weeks later. “You didn’t before.”

“Life’s too short.”

“So are you.” She kisses his cheek.

 _Blink_. “I thought—”

“I said I’d go out with you when I’m not emotionally detached from reality,” she explains. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t kiss you.”

He clears his throat. “Okay.”

“G’night, nerd.”

“Night, MJ.”

(He and Ned have been tallying how many times she’s used insults as pet names since the first _loser_ sighting; he texts him that she’s done it again.

Ned texts back: _das 15x now!!_

Peter smiles.)

* * *

It’s the end of January when MJ does it.

It’s the best day of their lives, because she finally, _finally_ does it.

“Quit staring, loser, you’re being creepy,” she says from behind a new novel, and there’s finally enough strength behind it that Ned looks like she’d just punched him in the face.

“I’m so _hurt_ ,” Ned says, choking up, a fist to cover his mouth. “Dude, you _hurt_ me.”

“You deserved it.”

“I _know_.”

She’s trying not to smile, and Peter’s trying not to hop over the table to hug her, because this is _their_ moment, and he’s happy.

He’s happy to see them like this.

It’s been too long.

MJ puts down her book, quirking a brow at Ned. “Leeds, you coming over here or do I have to threaten you under punishment of spreadsheet planning?”

Ned shakes his head and gets up, trying to contain his smile as he sniffles and makes semi-coherent sentences like _You’re weirdness is melting me,_ and _Congrats on emotions!_

She smiles a little, and it turns into a lot.

And Peter’s smiling, and taking a video, because posterity.

And Ned gives her a proper bear hug, shaking a little.

Gentle.

Fragile.

MJ pats his back as he hugs her, and Peter hears her whisper, “I’m right here. I’m right here, Ned.”

(No one looks over. This happened yesterday with one of the freshmen on the other side of the cafeteria.

It’s normal.

Like, it _shouldn’t_ be, but it is.)

“You picked me out, remember?” she continues. “Every little bit. Like a freakin’ superhero.”

Ned holds her tighter, and Peter hears him hold his breath, afraid it could happen again.

Her voice drops, but it’s not fear. Just a drop in volume. Just a secret for them (...and for the guy she’s kisses every day or so, because she knows he can hear). “Picked me out of the wind.”

“Anytime, buddy,” he rasps.

“Thank you,” she breathes, hugging him and mumbling. “Thank you, Ned.”

“ _Anytime_.”

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: here's a lil comic prequel to this http://doofusface.tumblr.com/post/173373723218/infinity-war-based-spoilers-under-the-cut
> 
> well I wanted to post fluff as my next fic cuz 20th spidey fic but that's too bad i guess (plus like the one im writing is waaaaay too long to finish atm so uh)
> 
> I'm Scarred but I also Expected It
> 
> YES YES WE DONT KNOW WHICH CLASSMATES MADE IT OKAY LET ME HAVE THIS
> 
> yell at me in dms for spoilers at doofwrites on tumblr. I won't respond to any spoiler q's in the comments, don't be that guy


End file.
